


Walking in the Shadow of Dragons

by empress9



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blood and Injury, Crimelord AU, Gangs, M/M, Organized Crime, References to Drugs, lots of swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:13:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23248303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/empress9/pseuds/empress9
Summary: Insomnia: a city that breeds chaos and violence...long under the ever-changing rule of crime syndicates, chosen by Astrals... the former Gods who use men for their war-games.The Draconians, led by House Caelum, are on their last legs against the rival syndicate, the Infernians. Bloodthirsty and powerful, under the guidance of Ifrit, the Fire-God.A false peace treaty is only the beginning.The fledgling new King Noctis and his gang of survivors must do whatever it take to bring their city back to the light.
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia & Ravus Nox Fleuret, Gladiolus Amicitia/Ignis Scientia, Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum
Comments: 1
Kudos: 6





	1. Chapter 1- Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is an au that i've been thinking about. Kind of a more violent spin on things, while still incorporating plot points from the game. We'll see how this thing goes~ For now.. have a short introduction.

××××

“This a courtesy call, Fleuret? Or have you gone full turncoat on the Infernians now-“ _Slam_. A fist to the face.

Well fuck him, then.

“Cut the shit, Amicitia. You and I both know that circumstances have changed.” Ravus hissed.

“Damn. I thought you were just lookin’ to see me again.” Gladio spat blood, wiped a hand over his mouth.

“You would be so lucky. It’s obvious I take no pleasure in these little… rendezvous. But alas. The tides of war are upon us.”

“So it would seem...” Gladio slumped against the brick wall of the alleyway, nursing his bruised face, attempting to shield himself from the growing torrent of rain. To no avail.

The man before him seemed entirely unaffected by the weather, electric streetlights catching the silver in his hair. A halo of fluorescence.

It was only the third time that Gladio had met with Ravus. Under a semi-diplomatic pretext. He still hated the guy’s guts. No questions there. Infernian lackey, despite his ‘captive’ status. Tracing the thin scar up to his forehead, Gladio recalled when the two had been on less… civil terms. But, somehow, he and Ravus had been arranging clandestine meetings lately. Just back-fence talk mostly. 

Still, he was surprised to get his call.

Infernians must be up to something bad, to get Ravus to snitch.

“I figured you… of all people… might understand.” Hell, Ravus was practically shaking.

“Fleuret, out with it. Before I fucking drown over here in this godsdamn rain-“

“Its Luna… its.. _my sister_.”

Oh.

_Fuck._

So that was it then…

“So those are their terms to this so-called treaty, eh?” Gladio huffed a laugh. There was no humor in it. “Toss Noct a shiny new toy, and what? We all succumb quietly to their fucking overthrow? Not happening.”

Ravus was trembling under the rain. Guess it was affecting him after all… He reached into his pocket for a cigarette, a lighter.

He puffed out smoke, coughed “They plan to unite the Caelum family with the Fleuret. Some kind of ridiculous attempt for armistice. Only my sister… I have no wish for her to be a pawn in their games. I thought you… your connections…”

“Easy, Fleuret. I have no intention of dragging your sister down in these fucked up politics. And believe me, Noct won’t go for it for a second. As soon as we got word of this godsdamn ‘truce’, I smelled a fucking trap. This Aldercapt’s idea? Fuck, he must be going senile… ”

“No. It’s _Izunia_.” Ravus spat the name. The Infernian's new _‘Chancellor’_. Word on the street was that he was a real conniver. “He arranged the whole thing. I’d only just gotten word of my sister’s involvement this morning. Believe me, I do not savor turning to a fucking Draconian for aid. But for hell’s sake… I have a feeling there’s more going on than Izunia’s letting on. I don’t trust the man. “

“Understatement.” Gladio huffed. Ravus tentatively offered him a hit off his smoke. Gladio took it. Fuck. What was this godsdamn relationship, anyway?

Exhaling, he contemplated how everything was slowly and steadily going to shit.

The Draconians had just conceded another block of territory to the Infernians last week. Gladio was still livid about it. Galahd street. There were good people there. Friends. But what could Regis do? Their “King” was being pushed into a fucking corner. The Infernians growing stronger by the day. And Noct. The Prince had his hands full defending the streets. His Glaives doing their hardest to suppress the turmoil.

But the Infernians were gunning for a takeover.

It was inevitable really.

And a phony engagement was their ace in the hole, apparently. But why? Why offer up Lunafreya Nox Fleuret? Glacian slave. Whose family had no real power now that the Infs apprehended them? 

Gladio took another hit. Dammit. His mouth was sore, still bleeding. Fucking Fleuret. He passed him back the cigarette. Gods, what did they look like? “This’ll change things for sure. Can't know what'll happen til the shit hits the fan. You lookin’ to change sides, blondie?”

“Hah!” Ravus puffed out smoke “I have little faith in that whiny Prince of yours. As if he were the chosen one to bring Insomnia back to light again. Pitiful.” He spat.

“At this point I don’t think anyone has what it take to save this gods-forsaken shithole of a city. Prophecy or not,” Gladio shook rain out of his eyes. “But I stand by Noct. And not just cuz it’s my fucking duty. That’s something you gotta look for, Fleuret. Some godsdamn _loyalty_.”

“Pssh. Loyalty is just another form of blindness, you know. Call it loyalty and you don’t have to feel guilty when you wash the blood from your hands…”

“Yeah, sure. But you have no problem staining yours. And at the end of the day, who is it for?” Gladio stared darkly at the older man.

“Violence for violence’s sake, tsk tsk… “ Ravus dropped the cigarette on the slick pavement. It was already snuffed from the rain. “When blood is spilled in the name of your King, is it more precious, hmm?”

Gladio didn’t reply. Just watched the rain fall. Washing them both. But not their sins it would seem…

“Figured you ought to know. Do with it what you will. Just keep my sister out of this nonsense if you can.” Fleuret was walking back to the entrance of the alleyway. As discreet a location as the two collaborators could hope. 

“Hey, Fleuret.” Gladio called.

“Mmm?”

He wiped the rest of the blood from his lips. “Next time you make me bleed, be sure to wash your hands nice and clean. Can’t have you making metaphors and shit for my sake.” He laughed brusquely.

“Hmph..” Was it his imagination, or was Ravus chuckling too?

What a godsdamn pair they made…

“Catch you around.. fucking traitor…”

“Be seeing you, Amicitia.” A wave, and then he was gone.

Disappearing in the spray of rain.

Gladiolus hugged himself against the wall. He spat a bit more blood on the asphalt.

Red in a puddle of neon reflections.

Fuck.

How much more would be spilt…

It was only just beginning…

××××


	2. Chapter 2: Negotiations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> News of the treaty agreement reaches Noctis, and he's... less than pleased. Prompto contemplates his unlikely friendship with the Prince.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some more intro stuff really. Kinda laying down some of the backstory. I'm really interested in expanding this version of Prompto. He's not the happy-go-lucky Prom we know. He's more street-hardened. More vicious. All of the boys are harder really. Let's see where this thing goes~ enjoy!

××××

The urban racket of motorbikes, raucous passersby and the distant sound of petty violence was all but lost in the private sanctuary of the church.

A haven in the cutthroat chaos.

Still… Noct couldn’t focus.

Bent down on his knees, forehead cold against the marble tiles, he wished the buzzing in his head would subside. Scattered thoughts of bloodshed and matrimony coincided in a sick little pantomime in his mind. He was racking his brains with the news that his Shield brought.

 _So this was his role then?_ Puppet in this blood-soaked opera? The negligible Prince, who’s strings would be cut without a second thought. 

So much for morning prayers.

A deep sigh resonated in his chest, he rocked back on his knees, hands pushing the hair back into place.

“Bahamut have nothing to say on the matter then?” Ignis. Of course he was there, lurking behind a pillar like a godsdamn specter. Uncanny bastard.

“He wasn’t home.”

Noct was in a pissy mood.

Bad enough hearing Gladio’s report. But now his father was keeping him from an important meeting. Where all of the head families would be discussing this ‘treaty’. He had no idea what Regis was trying to keep him from. Seemed like his whole life, he’d been trying to shelter Noctis from.. _what?_ The harsh realities of the world? All he had to do was take a walk down Old Lestallum to get an eye-full of that. The slums were rife with the consequences of a city built on suffering. Brutality and poverty. A deadly mix.

And his father, taking it all on his shoulders. Alone. He’d looked… sick lately. Worn down in greyscale haggardness. Pushing himself to the limits. With the godsdamn wall, keeping Draconian territory protected. Noct didn’t know where he was getting the power for it. For all of his eminence, Bahamut had never given Noct such strength. The Prince had used his God’s blessings to try to help those he could. But, fuck, would he ever be strong enough? 

How could Noct just stand idly by? He was heir to the Caelum legacy. Wasn’t it his birthright to sanction justice for all of this shit? Despite his father’s attempts to shut him out, he still felt it was his duty to be out on the streets. Making a difference. Safeguarding Insomnia somehow. That was what his _God_ had blessed him with, right? Divine power for retribution? Still made him feel like a godsdamn puppet…

“Aaaishh..” He shook his aching head. Gods he just wanted to fucking sleep.

“It appears your father’s assembly should be coming to an end soon. We should be prepared for what he has to say.” Ignis shifted. Sharp black suit cutting a shadow-like figure.

“Yeah, Specs. As if he’d include me in his fucking decisions…” Noct viciously countered.

“Like your role or not, this hardly just about you, Noctis. Your father is burdened with the safety of us all. Trust him not to take this lightly.”

“Pssshh. Sure.”

Noct stood, shaking out half-numb limbs. Fucking Bahamut. He shot a venomous look at the alter. The dragon statue unflinching at him.

_This is all for you, fucking worm._

Ignis approached him. Noct batted his advisor’s hands as he attempted to straighten his robe.

“Honestly, Noct…” The gaudy, gilded fuckery was just another reason he hated Bahamut today. Brocaded dragons swirled across his chest, his arms. Everything was a constant reminder, huh?

“Can’t have our dashing Dragon Prince appear unseemly, hm? Especially with the news of his upcoming nuptials. What would Lady Luna think, tsk...” Hell, Ignis was fucking teasing him.

“Back off, Specs. You won’t make a groom of me yet.” Despite his bitching, Noctis managed a smirk.

It was fucking absurd really. The Infernians must’ve been cooked outta their minds hatching up this godsdamn marriage plot. Noctis a pliant husband in their little charade? Good fucking luck.

Noct sprawled out on one of the wooden pews, still cursing Bahamut and his fucked-up idea of virtue. Regalia Church was the base of operations of the Draconians. It was the center of their territory, one that was dwindling at an alarming rate. Seemed Ifrit gave more bang for his buck these days. The Dragon-God seemed content to just let his disciples run themselves ragged, spilling their own godsdamned blood in his holy name. For what? Noctis was beginning to think they were all just puppets in this fucking Astral game. A game with no winner, at least not the human lives being sacrificed for it.

Half of him wished the Dragon-God had never bestowed anything on his sorry ass. The other half… well yeah… fuck... the magic was useful.

Still… he needed more... he wasn’t strong enough yet.

If only his dad trusted him with carrying the burden of the Caelum name. It’s not like Noct didn’t have blood on his hands. Fuck. Who didn’t? Ignis, the slippery shadow, had taken out more hits then Noct could remember. And fuck... Gladiolus. He was more butcher than bodyguard. Even Prompto, the urchin that Noct called his best friend… growing up in the streets, the boy had to survive somehow. Now he was adding to the carnage under Bahamut’s holy hand. Figured.

All for the glory of the Dragon-God, and House Caelum, the blood-filled dummies to carry out his bidding.

Fucking religious conviction.

_Bang!_

Noctis’s thoughts were cut short. The heavy oak doors banging from the hostility of a very pissed-off Shield.

“Up! You’ll wanna hear this kid.” With no warning, Gladiolus had a hand on Noct’s robe, tugging him to his feet. “Un-fucking-believable...”

It was becoming a regular thing to see his Shield all hot and bothered. They were all waiting for the axe to fall these days. But this… fuck... Gladio was _livid_.

He was pacing back and forth up the aisle. The silky black shirt he was wearing catching the glow from the stained glass, like a chromatic veil. “It’s like they have no fucking clue... like they’re just playing into their godsdamn hands... fuck me...” The Shield scraped a hand up his dark hair.

“Woah woah, G. Slow down. What’s happening?” Noct was alert and anxious.

“They’re going through with it. _Gods_. What a fucking _travesty_.” Gladio laughed as he was practically pulling his hair out. Noct grabbed his arm to still him.

“What do you mean?” Noct’s voice was stone-cold.

“The fucking _treaty_. They’ve agreed to the terms.”

Noct let go of the arm. He stepped back, uncertain.

“You fucking with me?” His voice shook, only a little. “C’mon G, you can’t be serious?”

“Dead.” And the look in his amber eyes confirmed it.

“What-..I don’t.. _fuck_.. _what_..?!” Noctis didn’t have time to articulate a more coherent sentence. With little else, the doors opened again. Revealing his father. And the guilt-ridden look on his face was all Noct needed.

“You wanna explain yourself?” Noctis spat at his father. He was surging forward, grabbing Regis’s stiff collar before he could help himself.

“Son… please. Calm down.” Always the diplomat.

“Calm? You want me to be _calm_. You just throw me under the bus, and _what?_ I’m supposed to be calm?!” Noct yelled, decidedly un-calmly.

“I haven’t thrown you under anything yet, my boy. If you’d just listen…” Noct thrust himself away from his father, disgusted. Behind him, Clarus stepped in to remind him that his father was, in fact, _King_ of this fucking excuse for a syndicate. He’d keep his hands to himself for now.

“Your engagement to Lunafreya is to be a catalyst in a greater scheme…”

“Bullshit!” Noctis wasn’t having it.

“If you would only see past the initial façade, we plan to make this development an advantage. The Infernians think they hold all the cards, but they don’t know all our secrets. Please son. I have your best interest, always.”

“And are these secrets you’re willing to share with me? Or do I have to bend over blindly while this whole plan fucks us over huh?”

“Easy Noct...” Gladio at his shoulder. His Shield in more ways than one.

“The King has given this whole matter much consideration, as you should know.” Clarus chimed in. Defending his charge too, it seemed.

“Noctis, you must trust me, son. I don’t plan to hand you off to the dogs as you would think. I’m trying to _protect_ you as much as I can, believe me. But the game’s changed. I can’t hold off the Infernians forever. The wall won’t hold that long…”

“You and your fucking wall!” Noctis seethed “If you’d only _trust me_ enough, I could help you maintain it. Bahamut’s sake! What am I to you? A worthless piece of shit that you call you Heir. You give me nothing! All these back-alley schemes, and I don’t have a clue what the fuck’s going on half the time! But I care about _our people_. That’s more than and your fucking politics can attest…”

“There’s more to this that you don’t understand yet, boy. Your future is one I will protect most dearly-”

“And what about the rest of us then?” Surprisingly Gladio interrupted “What of the future of all us Draconians you swore to protect? Noct’s right… These negotiations are gonna leave us all fucked-“

“Gladiolus!” Clarus admonished his son. 

“You think things are gonna go smoothly? I’ll marry Luna and the Infs will back off?” Noctis was tugging at the strings of his godsdamn robe. Fuck, he was suffocating. “Or better. We can join forces! That way we can call them comrades while they kill our men, slaughter our hope, and fuck us so thoroughly that it shatters the whole fucking Caelum bloodline-“

“Enough!” Regis was rarely one for anger. “This is not a surrender! We just need to get the Infernians in a position of cooperation. Only then can we make our move-“

Again, it was Gladio that came to Noct’s aid. “If you think this plan will work, sir, you’re blinder than I thought-” 

_Slap!_

“Know your place, Gladiolus!” Clarus pulled his hand back. He’d struck his son. The echo shocking them all to silence. “Respect your King, boy. Or you dishonor us all.”

Gladio, red streaking his face, ducked his head shamefully. Noctis was incensed.

“You want me to trust you, dad,” he laughed wickedly “Ok. _Sure_. I’ll be your pawn. But when the whole city’s up in flames, I hope it doesn’t put a damper on my fucking honeymoon.”

With that Noctis grabbed Gladio’s arm, beckoned Ignis, still prowling in the corridor, and slammed through the large doors. He needed to fucking breathe.

He just let his feet carry him out of the church.

With the cold statue of Bahamut indifferent to his exit. 

××××

Prompto had his eyes leveled down the barrel of his pistol. Muzzle guard in place, he stroked the cleaning rod through the bore. Gently. Like a lover’s touch.

He polished the frame til she sparkled. Hell if it wasn’t the sexiest thing he owned.

He smirked at his surroundings. Noct’s flashy apartment. Gaudy as shit. And there he was. Sat in the middle of it. Dirty street-rat, an array of firearms forming a circle around him. Like some kinda fucking ritual.

Who woulda thought?

He fondled his pistol lovingly. At least the brat came with perks.

Prompto’s friendship with the high-class Prince of the Draconians could not have been more unexpected. For Prompto most of all.

The boy grew up in the slums of Insomnia. No family. No Astral ties. Just his two fucking hands and what some had called a life-time of spunk. But hell if he could keep himself afloat in a drowning city for long. His teenage years were a testament to that. Half-dead at seventeen. Starving for his next hit of Djinn Dust. Fucking stuff. The jobs he’d had to pull just to afford it. Looting, thieving, he’d always gone for the guns. Shiny toys. Gave himself a reputation too. Fast as lightning. Never caught. Quicksilver, they’d called him. He shivered at the memories.

Then he’d met Noctis- the Prince he’d never cared about. Because what did syndicate-bred royalty care about except money, territory, lives to sacrifice? Draconians never gave him shit. But Noct… Noct surprised him.

Maybe it was what he was offering: _friendship_. A concept Prompto thought he’d half-imagined as a home-to-gutter orphan. Who’d want to be friends with him? So addicted to the drug that was killing him, he’d thought mercy unattainable. Couldn’t even kill himself to save him from the agony. 

But Noct saved him.

When he didn’t have to.

Prompto thought he was seeing an angel that day. In his little hideaway, the onetime arcade that had been left to rot. Like him. But a midnight angel found him. Pulled him out of that avaricious misery.

“Please kill me,” he thought he’d said at the time.

“Stand up, kid. Walk tall.” Maybe he’d imagined that too.

There were never any questions. _Who are you? How did you get this way? Where did you come from….?_ Prompto didn’t know himself. Kept his secrets locked away in forgotten memories and wristbands.

But Noct didn’t seem to care.

It was with his aid that Prompto crawled out of that black hole. He’d latched on to his savior. Hadn’t even known he was the Draconian heir til he realized he’d never seen him without a bodyguard, without money, without _destitution_. He ought to hate a kid like that. Spoiled bitch, really. But the Prince… Noctis was his _life-line._

The hands that eased away the anguish of his withdrawal. That held him when he cried, was sick, was ready to die. The hands that he’d come to love. Noct’s hands.

They pulled him from the gutter. Gave him something to hold on to.

And maybe that’s all he’d needed.

And the guns. The guns were a plus too.

Taking stock of his arsenal, Prompto felt the corners of his mouth tug into a wicked smile.

_Thanks, Noct._

_For giving me purpose. For giving me something to fucking shoot at. And for not judging me for the corpse I should have been_.

Three years later and Prompto’d never come to regret a thing. He’d be forever grateful for that little bitch. 

Speaking of Noct-

The door to the apartment slammed open, knocking some ostentatious vase to smithereens. Pity.

“Don’t fucking start with me Iggy! Not now!”

“If you would just-“

“ _Calm?!_ Calm down? Was that what you were gonna say?” Noct was a broody blur, half-tripping over the broken vase “Fuck… aaaiigh… fuck me..”

“Settle down, Noct. We’ll sort through this shit.” Gladiolus, voice rough. The Shield kicked away the porcelain shards. Looked like he wanted to smash them a bit more.

“I take it things didn’t go well then, hmm?” Prompto alerted the frantic trio to his presence. To their credit, they didn’t flip a shit. Mostly.

Noct just startled a bit, then made his way towards his friend.

“Prompto gimme your gun. I need to _shoot something!_ ”

“Easy, boy,” Prompto dodged his lazy attempt to snatch his weapon. “Don’t do something you’ll regret now. Although if you need something to take your anger out on there’s another fugly vase over there-“

“Aiiighh!” Noctis unceremoniously dove face-first into his plush couch.

“Sooo...” Prompto eyed the two older men.

“Looks like our boy’s off the market then. Meet the Infernians’ newest fuck-toy-“

“Shut up Gladio! Ugghhhnn!” Noct wailed, then hurled his face in the pillows again.

“What the marriage thing?” Prompto asked incredulously “Your dad agreed to that?”

Another wail confirmed it.

“Well fuck me…” He whistled “I feel bad for the bitch that has to clean up after your sorry ass, no offense to you Iggy. You’re not the bitch in question.”

“Indubitably…” The advisor adjusted his spectacles.

Noct started slamming his head against the cushions. His Shield settled against the wall, looking morose.

“Musta been some fucking meeting…” Prompto mused.

“Yeah… and I wasn’t even _there_ for it. Fucking dad. Signs me up as Insomnia’s bachelor or some shit, and I don’t even get a say-“

“Yeah well I was there and believe me, there was no alternative,” Gladio remarked, darkly. “Your father’s got his heart set on some kinda plan, but I don’t see how there’s a way around this huge cock-up.”

“As I attempted to mention before, not everything is as it seems, gentlemen” Ignis sat on the couch, next to Noct’s crumpled form. “King Regis is no fool. Give your father more credit than that Noct. Haven’t you wondered why it is that Lady Lunafreya is at the heart of this whole conspiracy…?” 

“What’s Luna got to do with this? She’s a fucking pawn, just like me…” Noct pulled his head out a bit.

“I thought she was powerless now that the Infs took over their syndicate. Didn’t Shiva just abandon all the Glacians after that?” Prompto didn’t know much about the whole thing.

“The Glacians weren’t abandoned by their God… more like forcibly severed.” Ignis was grim. “And it appears this mystery is at the core of what your father plans, Noct.”

“Whaddyou mean? And how do you know so much about this anyway?” Noct whined.

“Because I fucking _pay attention!_ ” Ignis slapped Noct on the head, a rare moment of passion. Prompto was loving it. It was hilarious when Iggy lost his shit.

“Damn, Specs! Oww. Astrals. Fucking enlighten me would ya?” Noct propped himself out of his misery-slump.

“From all of my sitting in on your father’s affairs, I’ve come to some conclusions. One: Lady Lunafreya is no mere stranger to King Regis. It seems the two have a history. And the second is this: Lunafreya appears to have inherited the powers of an Oracle.” Ignis paused.

“A what-now?” Prompto was inching closer.

“I thought the Oracle was just a myth,” Gladio contemplated from the wall.

“Specs. Explain. Please.” Noct voiced what Prompto felt.

“The powers of an Oracle allow the beholder to speak to Astrals. A human link to the Gods themselves. If Lady Lunafreya has, in fact, inherited those powers, your father is obviously looking for her aid in his secret plans.”

“And what plans are those exactly? And how can a person talk to Gods? Is this for real?”

Ignis sighed “While I’m still uncertain of King Regis’s intentions, I can say this: your father’s ailing health and the deteriorating of the wall are inexorably tied. And the power he is expending for it is not from the Dragon-God…”

“What- hold up!” Noct was sitting upright now.

“It appears your father has been seeking out alternative sources of power. I have no real evidence of this, just a few small observations-“

“Wait a sec…” Gladio interrupted “Is this about some crystal?”

All heads turned to him.

“What crystal? What’s even going on? No one fucking tells me anything…” Poor Noct.

“Just something my dad mentioned..” Gladio looked distant “Something about a secret stock that Regis was sitting on. I didn’t know what he meant by it. Didn’t ask. Too late now. Don’t think he’ll be telling me shit for a while now...” He uneasily rubbed his cheek. Prompto noticed a faint redness.

“What’s my dad hiding then? What’s this crystal business? Gahh! What’s my sorry ass gotta marry Luna for anyway?” Noctis was back to his petulant self.

“The marriage is a ruse, have no doubt in that” Ignis elaborated “It’s possible your father means to use Luna to lure out the Gods, or something of the sort. There’s also the matter of Shiva’s disappearance... It’s hard to say really.”

“I had no idea Luna was an Oracle…” Gladio absent-mindedly stroked his hair “Why didn’t Ravus mention in our last meeting-“

“Ravus?!” Noct was alert again “Your contact is _Ravus Nox Fleuret?_ ” He looked outraged. 

“Guess I never mentioned …” Gladio looked sheepish.

“Ravus, that fucking two-faced swine? Unbelieveable!”

“Didn’t he slash your face up Gladio? What’re you doin’ hanging around him for?” Prompto piped up.

“It’s more of a… diplomatic association… I guess.” Gladio looked guilty.

“So now everyone’s going behind my back, huh? Am I the last to know fucking everything?!” Noctis was fuming “Meeting up with Infernian rent-boys now, G? You gonna sell my secrets to the Infs too?”

“Hey!” Gladio was on his feet “Easy there, kid. You know I’m on your fucking side-“

“Are you?! Are any of you?” Noctis was hysterical now.

“I’ll be the first one out there in this fucking bloodbath watchin’ your six, now don’t forget that you brat!” Gladio looked like he was forcibly shaking off the urge to hit something. 

“Noctis, we know you’re upset. Your involvement in this so-called treaty has no doubt distressed you. For now, we need to just collect ourselves and move forward.” Ignis remained composed. Prompto wished he’d lose his shit again. Just for the drama of it.

The boy hadn’t chimed in to offer help to his friend yet, figured he’d let Noct stew a bit, then they’d talk it out. Like they always did.

But Noct looked particularly rough this time. As did Gladio. They all were wearing themselves to shadows.

Prompto didn’t like this somber change of atmosphere. Made things all the more serious.

“I need a drink,” Gladio muttered gruffly. “Iggy..?” he motioned the advisor. The two were close. Like Noct and Prompto. They’d work out their issues together.

Solemnly, Ignis laid a hand on Noct’s shoulder “This will work itself out Noct. Trust me.”

Prompto wanted to believe him.

He watched the two older men leave, then turned to the Prince.

“So… you wanna see who can take a better crack-shot at all this tacky pottery…?”

It was what Noct needed. A distraction.

And a friend.

××××


End file.
